More Like a Relapse, pt 1
by danceoffs
Summary: Brendon Urie goes through phases a lot, like any normal person. However, never had he hada phase with a person...
1. More Like a Relapse, pt 1

Brendon Urie went through many phases growing up.

That isn't uncommon, of course. Everyone goes through phases, especially when they're young. Brendon's first phase was when he was six; he remembered being really, really obsessed with cars. He would even collect them. Every time he saw a small car in a shot, he begged his mommy to please, please, let him get it, and that he would be a good boy and never get another car again if he got that one right there. His other would always chuckle and take it off the rack and put it in the shopping cart. Now press repeat.

This process happened nearly everyday for a month until Brendon got bored of cars. It was sort of sad too, because Brendon's mother had just gotten him the car set he had been wanting for a while. But being a boy, Brendon didn't care; he told his mother about his friend, and how he had the coolest thing ever: a CD player. That started Brendon's music phase, but he never really grew out of that one.

Even now, Brendon is still going through various phases; since he's turned twenty, he's been obsessed with shoes, belts, and Wii sports. See, his phases have always been towards things, material things. Never had it been towards a person; never has it been something that felt the love it received when Brendon was into it or felt the pain when Brendon threw it in his closet or in a box. Brendon didn't feel that pain either.

Brendon wasn't really a romance type of person. Sometimes he wanted some affection, but overall it never really bothered him. Even he had to admit that he definitely wasn't the epitome of a stud in his school days, so girls weren't exactly jumping all over him. To him that was a good thing.

And, of course, Brendon Urie was never into guys. That just didn't happen.

But either way, he could never imagine having a phase over a person. Sure, he had had crushes, but they were never overboard or anything. Just a simple longing that quickly went away. Definitely not a phase.

But one day, when he saw his best friend Ryan Ross, his mind went back to the day when he wanted the cars.

He got this sudden urge to point to Ryan and say, Mommy, I want that.


	2. More Like a Relapse, pt 2

But you know, the first day Brendon saw Ryan, he was rather unimpressed. The first day he saw Ryan, he saw a scrawny, dirty looking guy with light eyeliner. The first day he saw Ryan, he never would have thought that they'd be best friends.

"This is Ryan," Spencer Smith told Brendon. "He can play guitar like no other...and he can write lyrics too," Spencer looked at him, skeptical. He had probably done this before, and Ryan had probably ended up getting shunned. "And Ryan," Spencer turned to Ryan. "This...is Brendon."

Brendon looked at Ryan again, still unimpressed. Ryan looked at him, his expression unchanged. Brendon awkwardly stuck out his hand for him to shake, but he shrugged and looked away, still without a word. Brendon looked behind him at Spencer for reassurance. He nodded.

"Uh...so, you write lyrics, yeah?"

---

Soon after Brendon tried to make conversation, Spencer ruled that it was time to head to Ryan's place so he and Brendon could get better acquainted.

Still wordlessly, Ryan handed Brendon his lyric book and let him sit down with it. Brendon flipped the pages, obviously amazed by what he was reading.

"Wow," Brendon breathed. "So you wrote all this?"

Ryan nodded, playing with his fingers.

"I really like this one on page thirty-five," Brendon said. "Along with the people inside. What a wonderful caricature of intimacy -"

"No, no," Ryan said, cutting Brendon off. "That's not how you sing it."

When Brendon first heard Ryan's voice, he was sort of shocked. It was deeper and more monotone than he expected it to be. He guessed that Ryan's voice was even deeper than his was. He almost forgot to reply.

"Oh - uh, sorry. If - if you don't mind, would you sing it?" Brendon asked timidly.

Ryan sighed and sang the song for him. Brendon didn't like Ryan's voice, but it held a lot of sorrow and it told a story. Brendon smiled as he realized that the story was about Las Vegas.

"Let me guess - this song is about Las Vegas?" Brendon asked for confirmation.

"Yeah. No one's ever picked that up before," Ryan smiled a weak, but genuine, smile.

That's when the wall between Brendon Urie and Ryan Ross was first broken.

---

"Do you play guitar, Brendon? We'll probably need a backup guitarist," Ryan asked Brendon absentmindedly.

"A little, but I haven't picked mine up in a while," He admitted.

"You can borrow mine for now. Let's see how good you are." Ryan smirked.

Almost as soon as Brendon held the guitar, Ryan's picky personality had taken over. "No, no, your thumb placement is all wrong - put your fingers behind the frets! - ugh, clip your nails, they're deadening the strings - here, let me help."

Ryan put his hand on Brendon's, moving it and adjusting until e finally got the F Chord right. Brendon was uncomfortable but he didn't protest. Ryan's fingers were so anxious that it almost seemed like he had planned this, that he had wanted it to happen, that he had wanted to touch his hands.

Brendon tried to play the F Chord after Ryan's assistance, but even still it sound mediocre.

"Um, that's okay." Said Ryan, trying to be optimistic. "I'll just play the chords and you can play some licks and sing."

"Right." Said Brendon absently.

I'm going to have talk to Spencer about this, he thought to himself.

But you know, the first day Brendon saw Ryan, he was rather unimpressed. The first day he saw Ryan, he saw a scrawny, dirty looking guy with light eyeliner. The first day he saw Ryan, he never would have thought that they'd be best friends.

"This is Ryan," Spencer Smith told Brendon. "He can play guitar like no other...and he can write lyrics too," Spencer looked at him, skeptical. He had probably done this before, and Ryan had probably ended up getting shunned. "And Ryan," Spencer turned to Ryan. "This...is Brendon."

Brendon looked at Ryan again, still unimpressed. Ryan looked at him, his expression unchanged. Brendon awkwardly stuck out his hand for him to shake, but he shrugged and looked away, still without a word. Brendon looked behind him at Spencer for reassurance. He nodded.

"Uh...so, you write lyrics, yeah?"

---

Soon after Brendon tried to make conversation, Spencer ruled that it was time to head to Ryan's place so he and Brendon could get better acquainted.

Still wordlessly, Ryan handed Brendon his lyric book and let him sit down with it. Brendon flipped the pages, obviously amazed by what he was reading.

"Wow," Brendon breathed. "So you wrote all this?"

Ryan nodded, playing with his fingers.

"I really like this one on page thirty-five," Brendon said. "Along with the people inside. What a wonderful caricature of intimacy -"

"No, no," Ryan said, cutting Brendon off. "That's not how you sing it."

When Brendon first heard Ryan's voice, he was sort of shocked. It was deeper and more monotone than he expected it to be. He guessed that Ryan's voice was even deeper than his was. He almost forgot to reply.

"Oh - uh, sorry. If - if you don't mind, would you sing it?" Brendon asked timidly.

Ryan sighed and sang the song for him. Brendon didn't like Ryan's voice, but it held a lot of sorrow and it told a story. Brendon smiled as he realized that the story was about Las Vegas.

"Let me guess - this song is about Las Vegas?" Brendon asked for confirmation.

"Yeah. No one's ever picked that up before," Ryan smiled a weak, but genuine, smile.

That's when the wall between Brendon Urie and Ryan Ross was first broken.

---

"Do you play guitar, Brendon? We'll probably need a backup guitarist," Ryan asked Brendon absentmindedly.

"A little, but I haven't picked mine up in a while," He admitted.

"You can borrow mine for now. Let's see how good you are." Ryan smirked.

Almost as soon as Brendon held the guitar, Ryan's picky personality had taken over. "No, no, your thumb placement is all wrong - put your fingers behind the frets! - ugh, clip your nails, they're deadening the strings - here, let me help."

Ryan put his hand on Brendon's, moving it and adjusting until e finally got the F Chord right. Brendon was uncomfortable but he didn't protest. Ryan's fingers were so anxious that it almost seemed like he had planned this, that he had wanted it to happen, that he had wanted to touch his hands.

Brendon tried to play the F Chord after Ryan's assistance, but even still it sound mediocre.

"Um, that's okay." Said Ryan, trying to be optimistic. "I'll just play the chords and you can play some licks and sing."

"Right." Said Brendon absently.

I'm going to have talk to Spencer about this, he thought to himself.


End file.
